


Little Help from My Friends

by RaceUlfson



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Babysitting, Families of Choice, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-23
Updated: 2012-09-23
Packaged: 2017-11-14 20:48:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/519369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaceUlfson/pseuds/RaceUlfson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The bonds of friendship required Roy to spend his birthday with his best friend. The evening went downhill from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Help from My Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my live journal and on FF.net in three chapters. I consolidated.

The problem with friends, Roy Mustang thought to himself as he parked his car in front of the modest town house, is that they take up so much of your time. Take today, for example. Roy was of the opinion that once a man was old enough to be served in a bar, birthdays were nothing more than a morbid benchmark along a sadly finite lifespan.

Try telling Maes Hughes that. Lord knows Roy had, but ultimately it came down to this: he would be there at 6 and Hughes would put the pictures away. As a bonus, Gracia would bake a cake. Roy secretly hoped she left the rest of the cooking to Maes.

So here he was, knocking on his best friend’s door, bottle of wine in hand, mourning the loss of a perfectly good Friday night and the company of a charmingly empty headed and easy redhead he’d met just this morning. Roy knew better than to bring a date over to the Hughes' if he ever planned on seeing the girl again. And not marrying her.

Meas flung the door wide and greeted Roy like it had been 8 years instead of 8 hours since he’d seen him last. Roy allowed himself to be hugged, draped on, and steered inside.

“The Birthday Boy has arrived!”

Gracia called a cheery greeting from the kitchen while Roy surreptitiously scouted for blind dates. Maes, who could see through Roy and always seemed to know what he was doing before he knew it himself, grinned at him. "Just family tonight."

Not reassured in the slightest, Roy handed the bottle of wine to Maes, who accepted it even while scolding that a person didn't bring gifts to his own birthday party. They both knew Roy considered Maes' taste in wine to be lamentable at best, and that the bottle was pure self-defense. "Just family means my date for the night is...?"

"Elysia, you lucky devil."

The sad thing was, Roy was relieved that it was, in fact, his 8 month old goddaughter and not one of Gracia's numerous and frighteningly single sisters who was his partner for the evening. Maes was so besotted with his wife that he could not imagine a more perfect mate for his best friend than a lady from the same stock; consequently Roy had endured many dinners treading the thin line between utterly polite (anything less and Maes would kill him) and showing any interest at all in seeing the girl again. It felt like Gracia had an endless train of virtuously named siblings, all as sweet and bland as sugar cookies.

"I'll try not to take it personally when my date goes to bed at 7 - alone." Roy wandered into the kitchen to give Gracia a chaste kiss on the cheek. She was busy feeding Elysia, who smiled at her favorite 'uncle' and bounced in her high chair until Roy moved over to give her a quick buss as well.

"Lady killer," Maes said, tucking the wine in the ice box to chill. Roy gave him a 'what can I do?' shrug and grin before dutifully admiring Elysia's new outfit, tooth, and ability to shriek like a parrot.

"Maes is going to grill steak, Roy, I hope you don't mind dinner being so simple."

Mind? Roy was delighted. The less of Gracia's cooking he had to eat, the better. "That cake looks like you spent enough time in the kitchen already, Gracia." She tittered while Roy admired; it was a fancy looking thing, topped with strawberries, a weakness of his. The woman could make desserts, that was a known fact. It was like the girls of the family each took a course and cooked only that. Roy felt sorry for whoever ended up marrying hors d'oeuvre girl. Or fruit and nuts.

Fortunately Maes derailed that train of thought before it became even more ridiculous by handing Roy a drink and dragging him out back to admire his new barbecue grill. "You should put in a patio at your place; I'll come over and help you."

Roy shook his head and sipped the drink. Perfect, Maes made the best martinis. "You know what East Command is like right now."

Of course he did, Maes knew everything. It was his job. He tipped his head so his glasses glinted in the evening light. "Ed had a run in back in Youswell, didn't he? You going to volunteer to go clean that up?" He sampled his own drink, considering, then nodded. "Take you out of the spotlight a while, so the old farts see your reports and accomplishments and forget what a young pretty face is behind them? Good idea."

"I feel I should protest 'pretty'," Roy murmured, but he didn't.

"I'll still be here, with my thumb on the pulse. Do it. Hawkeye will go with you, and that will help you control Grummand.

"I'd like to keep all my staff, the only one I'm worried about is Havoc."

Maes stacked briquettes and then stepped back. "He's about to break up with his girl. Her husband has been transferred back to Central. He really does have the worst taste in women."

"Maybe Gracia can spare a sister." Roy pulled on his gloves and lit the fire with a snap. "If he ever makes Captain."

"Felicity makes great soup!"

 

**

 

No one could ruin baked potatoes and salad, although the rolls were a bit burnt. The perfect steak made up for it, and Roy leaned back in his chair, swirling the wine in his glass, at peace with the world. His 'date' for the evening was tucked in her crib and Gracia was making discrete clean up motions, setting up the coffee pot and gathering up plates and silverware. She'd leave Roy and Maes at the table to shoot the bull while she did the dishes, then serve cake and coffee and hopefully Maes would bring out that fine brandy he had. It was only here, where he felt utterly safe, that Roy would relax enough to risk getting tipsy. He knew if he was unable to drive, Gracia would simply steer him into the guest room for the night.

"I don't think I could get a better meal anywhere in Amestris," Roy said, and meant it.

"All that's missing is your wife puttering around with Gracia. Give her someone to talk to while we sit here and pretend we aren't just grunting and getting drunk."

"Maes, you promised you'd lay off the marriage thing until I'm 30."

"I lied," Hughes said cheerfully, then added more seriously, "You are shooting up the ranks, Roy, but a full bull Colonel needs a wife, seriously. You'll have to start hosting parties and things soon. You know Generals aren't made by accomplishments, but by who they know. And that includes the distaff side. Besides," he grinned impishly, "you have to produce a son before Elysia gets too much older than him to marry. Think of our grandkids! ...wait, what am I saying?" He smacked himself in the forehead. "I wouldn't let any boy of yours around my daughter. I know, Gracia and I will have a son and you can have the girl!"

Roy spluttered, caught between insulted and amused, but his comments were interrupted by the telephone trilling. Maes shot it a resentful look but got up from the table to answer. Gracia peeked out of the kitchen anxiously. Roy set his wine glass aside, thinking regretfully of the cake. No one phoned after dinner for any good reason. If Maes was being called in, it would behoove Roy to follow him.

Maes answered with a terse "Hughes." He frowned, listening, and said, "Hope? Sorry, Charity... have you called an ambulance?"

Gracia gasped and grabbed the door jamb. Roy hurried over to her and put a supporting arm around her waist. They both watched as Hughes fired off quick questions, nodding at the replies as if the speaker, presumably Gracia's younger sister Charity, could see him.

"Don't worry, Sweetie, she's a tough old gal. Gracia and I will meet you at the hospital."

"Momma," Gracia said brokenly. Shaking slightly, she pulled away from Roy, murmuring "I must get my purse and hat." She rushed off towards their bedroom.

Hughes hung up and started dialing again. "Gracia's mother collapsed, they think she's had a stroke." He added quietly, just for Roy, "It looks bad. I'll call the garage and have the car sent around, can you let yourself out?"

"Take my car, it's right in front, I'll call a cab, I have more time." Roy flipped him the keys which Hughes deftly tucked into his pocket, hanging up the telephone.

"Thanks, can you get Elysia's carry while I - damn, they won't let us take a baby into Intensive Care - and I wouldn't want to expose her to all those germs, anyway." Maes paused in the act of sliding his wallet - and a few throwing knives - into the appropriate pockets.

Gracia didn't drive. Roy quickly weighed the choices, spending the night at the hospital with Gracia's weeping sisters or... "She's sleeping, right? I'll stay here and babysit until you find someone to take over."

Maes nodded, flashing a quick grin of thanks. Gracia appeared, properly hatted and gloved as an officer's wife should be, in time to hear Roy's offer. She patted him briefly on the arm. "I'm so sorry about your birthday, Roy. Thank you for looking after Elysia for us. She probably won't even wake up, she's been sleeping through the night more often, now. Do try the cake. And the coffee... oh, I left the coffee percolating!" She turned back towards the kitchen but Maes skillfully spun her back around and out the door.

"I'll be back as soon as I can, or I'll send one of the girls over in a cab. Thanks."

Roy shut the door behind them and went to rescue the coffee. And snoop for Maes' brandy, feeling he deserved a tot. He toasted himself, muttering and ironic "Happy Birthday" and settled into Maes' chair to read the paper, resigned to a dull evening.

Exactly 15 minutes later, Elysia began to fuss.

 

**

 

It took Roy a few minutes to identify the sound, and by the time he made it to Elysia's pink and bunny filled bedroom, she had worked herself up to real tears. He switched on the light and was met with the baleful look of utter betrayal only a baby can manage. Elysia instantly detected that Roy was neither her beloved father nor mother, and she howled her indignation and woe.

Despite the fact that no conversation with Maes since, really, the possibility of Elysia had come to be ran its course without at least one adoring mention of said child, Roy had managed to have very little actual interaction with her. He'd only held her once, at the chapel for her Naming Rite, and she'd wet on him. Still, she was female, and Roy always had spectacular luck with that gender. They weren't usually crying - he was smoother than that, and long gone before the tears started. But how hard could it be? A little admiration, a few compliments, a couple kisses, maybe dangle a bauble... come to think on it, he did treat all his women the same, if you allowed for minor differences in the types of kisses and bauble. Roy resolutely approached the crib, vowing not to show fear under the onslaught of noise. Babies must be all lungs, damn.

"Shh, Sweetie, it's Uncle Roy. Who feels like a complete fool talking to you when you have no more idea what I'm saying than a cat." He tried squeaking some soft rubbery mostly rabbit shaped thing at her. "Just go back to sleep, your daddy will be home soon. I hope."

Elysia was momentarily distracted by Uncle Roy behaving oddly, but as soon as the distraction ended, her face crumpled and the wailing resumed. Roy tried the trick a few more times with lessening results before admitting defeat. "You want me to pick you up?" He seemed to remember Gracia scooped the baby up as soon as she fussed. Elysia was already on her feet, clutching the bars of her crib, shaking them with the fury of her despair. Roy leaned over awkwardly and snatched her up, remembering belatedly to worry about catching tiny little fingers in the railings. Then he worried about supporting her head, he was sure he'd heard some instructions like that sometime. It didn't matter because she was clinging like a monkey, tugging hard on a handful of his hair. Then she screamed right in his ear and it was only involuntary muscle spasms that kept Roy's arm around her.

Roy paced around, babbling like an idiot and jiggling Elysia up and down, which seemed to just jerk loose hiccuping sobs. Did babies have enough temporal sense to know when their parents had been gone a good long time? Was there a difference between minutes and hours? There certainly was for Roy, even the seconds seemed to be lasting for days. "Shh, Sweetie, they'll be right back." Please god, let them be right back.

"Why are you crying?" Elysia couldn't have known her parents had rushed out; she'd been dead asleep. Something else must have awakened her. Bad dream? Did babies have bad dreams? What could they possibly have in their tiny little lives that could be bad enough to create a nightmare? Especially this child, who's very existence was enough to ensure her constant adoration. "If you think sleeping through the night is tough now, just wait until you have grown up things to worry about."

So, if it wasn't Maes and Grace leaving and it wasn't a nightmare, what did that leave? Roy hoped she wasn't wet, she didn't feel wet, he'd feel it, right? He felt it at the Naming Rite but then she'd been naked and pink and mildly repulsive. It was the scabby belly button. "I hope your daddy doesn't have his heart set on you marrying any offspring of mine, Elysia, because Uncle Roy is never having children." She sniffled in commiseration, getting snot on his collar. She couldn't be wet, because that was an adventure Roy was absolutely unprepared to face. Why was he stuck with a baby? He should call someone for back up.

"But who to call?" Roy asked Elysia, like she knew what he was talking about and could voice an opinion. He corrected that immediately, she was excellent at voicing opinions. If only he knew what they were. "I left my little black book at home... and the whole baby thing might give them dangerous ideas, anyway. Hawkeye is out of town... " There was the rest of the office staff, but Fuery was off at some electronics training seminar and the rest, well, by 9 on a Friday night, they'd be drunk or well on the way. Not that he'd expose Maes' darling baby girl to Havoc, Breda or Falman even if they were stone cold sober. Dammit, what he needed was a matronly old lady who'd do anything for him. One came to mind, but... "Your daddy would kill me for sure if I called a working girl over to babysit." Anyway, Roy knew what those girls charged per hour; it would cost a damn fortune.

All right, maybe another man. A family man, or one with a large family, who would drop everything this time of night and rush to help. Roy shifted Elysia so she could sog up the other side of his shirt and reached for the telephone, dialing quickly. When the deep voice answered, sounding unperturbed at the lateness of the call, Roy sighed with relief. "Alex, Roy Mustang. Listen, Gracia Hughes' mother is in the hospital -"

Alex Armstrong gasped and offered sincere sympathies to Gracia. "Excellent woman, tragic. What can I do to help?"

"I'm glad you asked that. Hughes took my car to get Gracia to the hospital, her sisters-"

"Ah, I see, of course, I shall present myself and offer my assistance. Where is little Miss Hughes?"

"With me, which is why I-"

"Say no more! Glad to hear she's in safe hands. Rest assured, Mustang, Armstrongs are the ones to call in these sorts of emergencies. I'll be at the hospital in half an hour."

Panicking slightly, Roy all but wailed, "No, wait, not the hospital!"

"Of course, you can't go, since you have the baby. They will understand. I'll extend your regrets, of course. Must take some pressure off them, knowing Little Elysia is snug with you. Is that her I hear? I'll let you go, rub her tummy, old Armstrong family trick, always works. Good night, Mustang!" The call terminated with a click.

"He hung up on me!" Roy said to Elysia. She looked as confused as he must. When she started crying again, Roy debated joining her.

 

**

 

The Armstrong tummy rub only worked for Armstrongs. Granted, Roy was hampered by memories of the belly button and a fear of touching it. He settled for patting Elysia on the back, which at least helped with the hiccups some. They were both damp and sticky and Roy was impressed with the amount of moisture a baby could produce. He comforted himself that she couldn't possibly be wet; she couldn't have enough water to spare. For a tiny baby, she was getting heavy, too. He'd carried a pack easily three times her weight in Ishaval, but then, it hadn't wailed and squirmed and leaked. Attempts at setting her down, especially back in the pink bunny decorated crib, only increased the volume and fury of the wailing. Instead, Roy staggered exhaustedly in circles, alternating bouncing and the occasional swooping motion with patting and muttering about how he was never having children.

When the telephone rang about 10, he pounced on it like a life line. "Mus- er, Hughes residence."

"Roy, how is Elysia?" Maes sounded tired and sad and Roy bit back everything he was going to say.

"She's awake and missing her parents, but we're coping," he lied. "What's the news?"

"You know the jargon, everything sounds so bad. They are running more tests, now. Alex turned up, he's driving Faith and Honoria down to pick up their aunt and uncle." Maes sighed. "I hate to do this to you, but can you stay the night? I'll be home as soon as I can."

"You know I will. Here, say something to your daughter." Roy held the receiver up to Elysia's head, and smiled as her face took on an expression of joy at hearing Daddy's voice. She immediately started looking around for him. Maes was still talking when Roy took the phone back, something about Elysia keeping an eye on Uncle Roy. "Ahem."

"She sounded sniffly, is she coming down with something? Her little vaporizer is in the closet, it's shaped like a ladybug. Just pour some of the menthol oil in the little cup and fill the other part with water. Have you fed her? Gracia leaves some containers in the ice box, she likes the mashed yams the best. Make sure you warm it first, not too hot, you do know how to check that, right?"

"Maes. I wasn't raised by wolves, I was a kid once myself. I can handle it."

"You remember that far back? I'm impressed. Uhoh, I gotta go. Thanks, Buddy, I mean it."

It took Elysia about 30 seconds to figure out Daddy wasn't there and wasn't appearing. Then she threw a tantrum that put all her earlier screams to shame.

 

**

Roy wasn't a career military man for nothing. He did what any good commander does when faced with failure: regrouped and tried another tactic. His problem, he decided, was that he'd forgotten some key points, namely, that Elysia was still female and that he was still Roy Mustang.

"What kind of cad am I? Trying to get a pretty girl into bed and not even taking her to dinner, first." All right, it sounded a little perverted if your mind walked those paths, but Roy wasn't going to waste years of practice schmoozing by worrying over details. He started talking to Elysia, complimenting her um, gown (yellow flannel with pink and blue kittens) and complexion (blotchy red) and gave up and kissed the back of her grubby hand (sticky, ew). Elysia took her hand back and examined it, then smiled and threw Roy a kiss, mwah.

Roy laughed and made kissy faces back at her, and she giggled. Feeling himself on much firmer ground, he escorted his date for the evening into the kitchen and settled her in her high chair. As long as Roy kept eye contact or at least blew kisses towards Elysia, she smiled and babbled and returned them. He turned her chair so they could watch each other as he dug around in Hughes' ice box. "Yams, wasn't it? Those are orange, right?" He came up with a glass container of more or less orange goop and eyed it. "How does this get into the bottle? Do we mix it with water?"

Elysia sighed and gave Roy a very Maes like glare of exasperation, winning a sheepish grin from him. He tried blowing her another kiss and was rewarded with an outpouring of syllables, mostly involving the vowel sounds of "ah". Assuming that meant she wanted to inspect her food choices, Roy whisked off the lid and held the box of goop out for Elysia's approval. She gave the stuff a doubtful look.

"She's your mother," Roy said by way of explanation. "You must be used to it by now."

Bravely, Elysia reached for the box and stuck her finger in the mess. She drew back, surprised by the coolness, and then scrutinized her finger before sticking it into her mouth. The resulting expression did not bode well.

"Maybe it's better heated up." If it was typical of Gracia's cooking, it would be better thrown away, but Roy was running out of options. He was relieved to see a small kitten decorated china bowl and matching rubber tipped spoon in the drainboard, so all he needed now was a saucepan. Roy set the goop down and picked a likely looking cupboard.

He found the appropriate utensils, dumped the orangey glop in, and lit the stove with a snap of his fingers. The whole process, Roy was sure, couldn't have taken more than 90 seconds, and yet, it was enough time for Elysia to grab handfuls of the cheerful yellow kitchen table cloth and tug it towards her. The glass lid to the mashed orange things went first, shattering on the tile floor with a crash. Roy spun around, fingers poised to snap and incinerate his attacker, in time to see the vase of snap dragons and yellow daisies teeter on the edge.

He just missed it.

Elysia, frightened by the noise and rightly expecting parental dismay, wailed. Concerned that she may have been hit by some of the flying glass, Roy rushed over, crunching underfoot the last large piece of Gracia's vase. He winced, that would be a bitch to transmute back together, and he'd never paid any attention to the thing in the first place. Roy hoped the Law of Constancy would help restore the vase to it's original form. Assuming he could find all the bits and separate them from the glass lid.

"Shh, Sweetie, it's all right, Uncle Roy isn't angry - possibly shocked out of several years of my life, but not angry..." He bent over her, searching her face and hands for any telltale signs of glass shards. It was a good thing Roy was in that position, because he was able to take the full brunt of the splashes of overheated mashed yams that erupted from the pot with a bloop. He straightened up quickly, involuntarily uttering words Elysia had certainly never heard before, and ripped off his shirt before the stuff could soak through to his undershirt and burn him further. The pot rattled, and with one last energetic blat, spewed most of the rest of it's contents upwards. Roy slammed a lid over the pot and cut the flame off. He ran a shaking hand through his hair and came away with a glob of unpleasantly hot orange mush.

Shell shocked, Roy looked around at Gracia's previously pristine kitchen. The floor was covered with broken glass, water, and rapidly dying flowers. The parts of the table cloth that weren't a wrinkled wad from Elysia tugging on it were dotted with bits of mashed yams, as was the stove top, counter, and nearby cabinets. The only thing that remained untouched was his birthday cake, although the strawberries were looking a bit old and sad and the icing had begun to melt. Roy turned back to Elysia and snatched her up just as she was about to crawl out of her highchair and plummet to the ground.

Roy plunked Elysia down in the sink and barely got the flowers picked up before Elysia was sampling the dish soap. He tried washing her face and mouth with water and got a soap bubble for his trouble.

Dammit, how did Gracia get anything done? He couldn't get two seconds to draw an array, much less do anything the traditional way. What Roy needed was to master Fullmetal's trick of just clapping an array into existence.

...Fullmetal. The Elric brothers were back in town. Gracia and Maes adored those kids, more importantly, so did Elysia. They had a special bond because, according to family legend, Edward had actually delivered the baby. Roy was never quite sure exactly what happened that night, but if any 11 year old - no, sorry, that was his 12th birthday, 12 year old kid - could do it, Edward Elric was that kid. Anyway, Fullmetal was so young he was bound to be better at taking care of a baby than Roy was. Less time to forget details. And he had a little brother, Edward must have helped out with Alphonse. Worst case, Roy could pull rank and make Fullmetal change the diapers. That way, if it was done wrong, the Hughes' would forgive them. But how to get the Elrics over here in what was essentially the middle of the night?

Roy's eye fell on the cake. Of course.

 

**

 

He had to use the base locater to find Edward, but Roy wasn't afraid to push his rank. As far as he was concerned, this was rapidly turning into an emergency. Elysia had been crying steadily for at least two hours now, and showed no signs of stopping any time soon. She slapped away the rag doll he bounced in front of her face and sobbed.

"Colonel?" Edward said over the line, sounding muddled. Roy felt a pang, it must be close to midnight and Fullmetal was just a kid, he'd probably woken him up.

"Fullmetal, retiring early on a Friday night? No date?" The image of twelve year old Edward, hair slicked back, bunch of posies in hand, nervously asking a girl out to... sketch alchemical designs, most likely. Too funny.

"...have you been drinking?"

Not nearly enough, Roy thought, bouncing Elysia and trying to keep his hair and the silk covered phone cord out of her sticky fingers. "I am celebrating my birthday, as a matter of fact."

In the background, Alphonse asked anxiously, "Brother?" to which Edward replied in a bad stage whisper, "Mustang, it's his birthday, he's drunk. Dunno why he called me."

Rolling his eyes, Roy said crisply, "Fullmetal, I am not drunk. I am, however, at Maes Hughes' home, and there is a very large birthday cake."

"And?" A sigh, and a mumbled, "Al says 'happy birthday'."

"And we need help finishing it off. It won't keep, it has fresh strawberries."

"It's pretty late, Colonel, it would take me an hour at least to walk all the way over there. ...but thanks for the invi-"

"Call a cab."

"What?" Clearly a taxi was a luxury outside of Edward's experience.

"Call a taxi cab." He waited while Edward's natural suspicion and cynicism warred with his curiosity and love of sweets. "I'll pay for it." Roy sounded desperate and knew it, but it tipped the scales so curiosity won.

"They'll never come this time of night, not for a-" audible eye roll -"kid. I'll have to get one over at the Officers' Club. I'm bringing Al." That last had a faint hint of warning.

Smoothly, Roy said, "Of course, you know he's welcome, too."

"Yeah, I'll need him to carry your sorry ass home if you are totally blotto." Fullmetal hung up without even a goodbye.

"I'm not drunk," Roy protested to the empty line. He hung up and grumbled to Elysia, "I wish I were, but I'm not."

**

It seemed to take so long for Edward to arrive, Roy wondered if the kid had decided to walk after all. He wasn't sure he liked the idea of a little boy traipsing all over the city in the middle of the night, seven foot tall armored brother notwithstanding. Conversely, he remembered that Fullmetal calmly threatened to kill the Fuhrer in full view of all the top brass, so a minor inconvenience like a mugger probably wouldn't even slow the little guy down. As long as he didn't get picked up by the local cops. Roy simply did not have time to sort that out tonight.

He couldn't leave Elysia unattended and he couldn't set her down anyplace in the kitchen with all the broken glass. The shrieks that came when Roy attempted to leave her in the crib left him expecting police, fire fighters, and the rest of Amestrian Army to rush to the rescue. When he sat her down in the parlor she crawled after him and when he built a little fort out of couch cushions on the sofa she escaped by climbing over the arm and nearly falling on her head. Roy was currently carrying the baby under one arm like a sack of apples. His sole accomplishment since calling Fullmetal was the decision to kill Maes Hughes before he spawned any more devil children.

Roy was pacing in the front room and he opened the door so quickly after the timid knock Alphonse nearly fell inside on top of him. "Alphonse!" He said brightly, unconsciously mirroring Maes enthusiasm from hours ago. "Great to see you. Look, Elysia, Cousin Alfie."

Armor could not wince, but Al managed to convey it, anyway. He carefully accepted Elysia as Roy thrust her at him, murmuring, "Just call me Al, Sir... Hello, Elysia!"

Roy peered around Al as best he could; the boy took the hint and shuffled inside. "Sorry, it's so late, but Brother said... Um, Happy Birthday."

"Where is Fullmetal?"

"Still in the taxicab, Sir. The driver wouldn't let him go, he won't accept the pocket watch, and he lectured us the whole way over. Brother is in a mood, Sir."

Ah, the State Alchemist's Watch - in theory, all an Alchemist had to do was flash it and he was allowed to commandeer any service or military related goods. Not for free, of course. The influx of chits demanding recompense was one of the ways Roy tracked the Elric brothers around Amestris.

'In a mood' was Alphonese-ese for 'having a shrieking babyfit'. Roy could imagine the lecture, too: it probably started along the lines of boys not hanging around Officers' Clubs in the middle of night. If it included the term 'little', the cabby was lucky he wasn't driving a canoe.

"I did promise to pay. I'll be right back."

Roy happily fished out his wallet and strode out to the waiting cab at the curb, telling himself it would unethical to get in and demand to be transported somewhere, anywhere, else. Besides, Gracia would hunt him down and kill him if he left precious Elysia in the care of what was, after all, only a 12 year old boy and his little brother. And then Maes would stab what was left.

Said twelve year old was only visible in the back of the taxi as a flash of golden hair, his habitual black hiding him in the shadows. The bright red coat, of course, was gone in deference to the warm summer night. The cabby jumped out as Roy approached, followed quickly by Edward, who brandished a bouquet threateningly.

"Over at the Officers' Club at Central Command, this time of night, and he has your pocket watch, too." The cab driver seemed to be midspeech, but saw no reason to start again at the beginning. Roy got the idea, anyway.

Ed took a deep breath, presumably to start yelling.

Roy hissed, "Don't wake the neighbors. Inside," even as he was nodding and trying to thrust cenz at the driver.

The cabby was derailed by being actually paid, and paused to count the money. He gave Roy an arch look, and Roy handed over a slightly larger tip. The cabby's eyes narrowed, taking in Roy's disheveled hair, lack of shirt, and general youth. "Kid... is this guy your father?"

Fullmetal's gold eyes turned evil, glinting in the moonlight. Roy could see the rejoineders considered and rejected while he held his breath. "Old family retainer. Give the man a decent tip, Mustang," the imp added airily, heading for the house.

Sighing, Roy handed over the rest of his cenz.

He caught up with Edward at the door and plucked the bouquet from the boy's gloved hand. Flowers, just what they needed. The kid was psychic; it was uncanny. "Good work, Fullmetal. Any snapdragons?"

Startled, Edward replied, "I think those are gladiolas." He frowned and grabbed them back. "And they aren't for you anyways, they are for Mrs. Hughes."

"She's not here," Alphonse said, conveying a world of disapproval. "Neither is Mr. Hughes." He gently tried to pry his feather streamer out of Elysia's grip.

Edward flashed Roy a look of utter disgust before edging over to stand protectively in front of Alphonse. Nonplussed, Roy blinked back, trying to fathom what brought that on. Other than it being the middle of the night, Roy being half undressed, and the fact that he'd lured Edward here under basically false pretenses... oh god. No wonder the kid was thinking what he was thinking although he shouldn't even know to think that at his age, dammit. Roy was going to have to get Maes to do some serious snooping if someone was trying to take advantage of a little boy under his command. Some one other than himself, that was. At least he wasn't a pervert. Not that Edward would believe it at this point.

"Elysia's grandmother was taken ill suddenly and the Hugheses are at the hospital with her."

The little genius connected the dots and his mercurial mood changed. He grinned. "They left you to babysit and you can't handle it. Ha! The great Colonel Mustang defeated by a little baby girl!"

Wearily, Roy closed the front door. "How can you tell?"

"You have carrots in your hair," Alphonse replied helpfully.

"Mashed yams," Roy corrected.

"Mashed yams are more brownish. These smell like carrots." Al's nose was about level with the top of Roy's head. If he had a nose.

Edward was thinking along the same line. "How do you know? You can smell things? How?"

"Carrots smell different from yams and sweet potatoes. And I don't know, I just can. Speaking of which..." Alphonse handed Elysia off to his brother, trading her for the flowers.

Edward made a face and passed her to Roy, who promptly handed the baby back to Fullmetal. He, in turn, tried to get his younger brother to take her. Al backed away, holding up his leather pseudo hands, one still clutching the gladiolas. "Nuh uh."

Elysia, unsure if this was a game or rejection, whimpered. She was tired and uncomfortable. She wailed.

Edward sighed. "This better be some darn good cake."

 

**

 

Operation Baby Diaper convened in Elysia's bedroom, but was immediately moved back to the parlor. Fullmetal was too short to reach the changing table.

Edward carried Elysia, at arm's length, with Roy and Alphonse dutifully following behind carrying anything thing that looked useful. Roy had pins, (sprouting from the back of a turtle made of brass and pink velvet), powder, lotions, (in new fresh scent, which smelled like every baby he'd ever had the misfortune to smell. Every clean one, at least.) soft towels (heavily decorated with kittens, bunnies, and small misshapen bears), clean diapers, and a rather cute little pink and white striped nightie with matching socks. The amount of gear a baby required was frightening. Roy wondered if anyone ever misplaced their children in the clutter, but another sob from Elysia reminded him why not. Alphonse was manning a thick changing pad and a small ominous pail that was decorated with daisies and smelled like industrial solvents with a splash of lavender.

"She's very fussy tonight," Al commented.

"You'd be too if some dimwit left you in a damp diaper all evening."

"In my defense, I didn't know she was wet. I thought I'd feel it."

"That's kind of the whole point of the diaper, not to have the baby dripping all over the place." Edward made a face. "But you couldn't have missed the smell, so that must be new. Put the pad down here on the coffee table, Al."

"I was wondering if something was wrong; Elysia is usually a very happy baby." Al was used to herding any conversation with his brother back to the point.

Ed laid the baby down on the pad. "You think she's sick?" They all looked at Elysia anxiously. "What did you feed her?"

"Nothing, the yams exploded." Roy sighed when Alphonse murmured "Carrots" and continued, "Her mother fed her before she left, some normal baby swill." Or so he assumed. He hadn't actually been paying attention.

"She's probably just hungry, then. Mom fed Al all the time when he was dinky. And it's way past her bedtime. We'll clean her up, feed her, she'll go to sleep and then I'm eating cake." Edward reached for a diaper pin with a pink bakelite kitten on it and hesitated. "Ah... she is a girl. It seems kind of rude to undress her in front of three guys."

Alphonse said promptly, "I can go wait in the kitchen. I'll put the flowers in water for Mrs. Hughes."

"There's glass all over in there - I'll help you."

Fullmetal gaped at them. "You can't abandon me to do this alone!"

"Glass? What did you do, Colonel?"

"I told you, the yams exploded."

"Oi! First we clean up the baby, then the kitchen, all right? Could I get some help, here? Where are the rubber gloves?" Alphonse slapped them into Fullmetal's hand like a surgical nurse handing over forceps. He pulled them on and then fussed with the diaper pin, his fingers made clumsy by the thick gloves. Elysia kicking and wiggling didn't help.

"Don't let her fall off." Roy leaned forward and cupped Elysia's head with his hand, trying to keep her centered on the pad. 

“I can’t get the pin undone, I don’t want to squish her by leaning on her tummy.”

Roy remembered the scabby belly button and shuddered.

“Just transmute it, Brother. I’ll help you fix it later.”

The diaper came off and there was some logistical cooperation needed to remove the somewhat damp and ammonia scented one to the daisy pail and replace it with a soft clean cloth. It occurred to Roy in the middle of the argument over the correct alignment of the corners and center of said diaper that three alchemists where probably not the best choice of surrogate nannies. Alphonse apparently agreed.

“It’s a diaper, not an array, Brother. I don’t think the edges have to be perfect. We aren’t going to transmute anything with it.”

“That’s an idea, we should get a circle that self-cleans the diaper. People everywhere would love us.”

“Except for Diaper Services.” Roy presented his collection of bottles and powder puffs. “Aren’t we supposed to use these before we button her up?”

They all got to work reading labels, then Edward carefully wiped Elysia down with some cream, followed by lotion, followed by powder. “You think that’s in the right order?”

“I know women put the liquid make up on first, then the powder, so I’d say it’s correct.”

Fullmetal nodded and fumbled with the diaper pin, this one with a small white bunny on the shield portion. “I don’t want to stab her.”

“Allow me.” Roy took over, after all, the kid really only had one good hand. Remarkable what he could do with the automail, but even so, it did affect his dexterity. Roy deftly fastened the pin, and then held up Elysia by gripping her under the armpits.

The diaper fell off.

Alphonse smothered a giggle. Edward rolled his eyes and Roy said defensively, “I’m not used to keeping a girl’s clothes on her.”

“Perhaps a bit less lotion this time.” Alphonse suggested politely.

“And a bit more diaper in the actual pin.” Fullmetal sat that one aside and took a fresh one from the stack to try again.

They confabbed over corner placement and centering again, then folded the ends while Elysia lay there, getting a little flushed but smiling broadly. Edward decided to simply transmute the diaper sealed and Roy leaned over to watch the array flash. He got a good whiff of something horrible and his stomach flipped. "My... god."'

”Oh, you didn’t.”

“I think she did, Brother. Babies can’t help it.”

Edward sat back. It appeared he'd been trying not to breathe. "This isn't going to work. Al, hand me that newspaper. Mustang, you hold Elysia up like she's standing. Over the newspaper."

"Not the sports section, I hope, I'm not done with that."

Alphonse leaned over to check. "Personal Advertisements and Help Wanted. Be careful you don't steam her, Brother."

"I know, I know, I'm going to take the diaper off first and dispel the moisture into the air."

Roy smirked, unable to resist. "You have an array to get a girl's clothes off, Fullmetal?"

The boy turned a delightful shade of red and spluttered. "Not like that!"

"Drat, I was hoping you'd share." He bounced Elysia a little. She didn't seem to like the crinkle of the newspaper under her feet.

Edward pointed a gloved finger at Roy. "You get your ladyfriend's clothes off the regular way, you tomcat. And don't talk about this stuff in front of my little brother."

"Why not?" Alphonse asked, a bit petulantly.

Edward forestalled that discussion by clapping his hands. Blue light flowed around Elysia, making her coo, and then her yellow nightie and dirty diaper fell off, along with the pin. Another clap quickly followed and a soft sifting of dirt fell on top of the clothes. Elysia seemed to be faintly pink but otherwise, clean. Then Edward sneezed, stirring up a goodly amount of the dust. Roy, who had been leaning forward to observe, took the brunt of it.

"Ewww, you've got it all over you now!" Fullmetal fished out a handkerchief, too late.

With as much dignity as he had left, Roy handed the baby to Edward and said, "I'm going to take a shower. Just throw the clothes away with the rest, I'll buy her new ones."

"Good idea." Alphonse quickly sketched an alchemical circle on the Society pages and laid it over the rest, transmuting them all into a neat package.

Edward struggled with trying to get a squirming and much happier little girl into her diaper and night dress. After stabbing himself repeatedly in his flesh thumb with a bunny shaped diaper pin, he sighed and clapped his hands. "Hey, Colonel, you only called us over because you are too lazy to do your own Alchemy, right?"

Roy stuck his head out of the bathroom. "Untrue. I called you because Elysia likes you, you are friends with the Hugheses, and because you are the only one of my subordinates I could be sure would still be sober this late on a Friday night."

"There had better be a cake," Edward told Elysia darkly.

 

**

Roy rolled his clothes in a ball, planning to dump the whole wad off at the cleaners. Clad in a towel, he snooped in Maes' closet, wincing over the vibrant colors of Maes' street wear. He finally ended up with a purple shirt and old grey pair of slacks that looked like Maes had last worn to paint the fence. The sad thing was, Roy thought as he rolled up both sleeves and pants cuffs, he would probably fit Gracia's clothes better. And she had better taste.

He wandered through the house and found the Elric brothers and Elysia in the kitchen. Edward looked up and said, in a highly impressed tone, "You even got carrots on the ceiling!"

The boys had swept up the broken glass and vase and, by the looks of the baroque monstrosity now lurking on the kitchen table, Fullmetal had been the one to transmute it back together. Roy tsked, he should have remembered to tell the brothers that there were two items co-mingled. Well, the dangling crystal tears were a nice touch. If one liked that sort of thing.

The flowers were back in place, only slightly wilted and battered, and were bolstered by the gladiolas. Elysia sat in her high chair, happily gnawing a cookie. Alphonse was carefully mopping the ceiling and cupboards. Edward was at the stove, cooking eggs.

“Scrambled eggs? Is that a good idea?” Fullemtal could cook? Well, someone would have had to feed him, typical that he’d simply do it himself.

“All eggs become scrambled if Brother cooks them,” Alphonse explained. “Or hard boiled.”

“Yeah, well, it’s edible and soft, right? And easy to digest.”

“I’m not sure. Eggs can have a dolorous effect on some digestions.”

Fullmetal blinked at him and then proved that Alchemical Genius or not, he was still a twelve year old boy. “You mean egg farts?” He laughed.

“Ewww, those are the worst.” Ah, yes, and his little brother was what, ten or eleven.

“No, what’s worst is when Breda sneaks into the enlisted mess on chili day. Lt. Hawkeye makes him sit by the open window, even if rain is coming in.”

Encouraged, the Elrics launched into a series of jokes most remarkable for their very low humor and tackiness. Roy found himself laughing. The part of every man that remains twelve years old forever never gives up the fascination for disgusting things. That must be why boys are snips and snails and puppy dog tails while girls are sugar and spice and everything nice.

Edward dumped the yellow mass into the kitten bowl and handed that and the rubber tipped spoon to Roy. “She must be starving, look at her drool.”

Roy in fact had been trying not to look. He wiped Elysia’s face and then offered a bit of egg. She would not open her mouth, but she carefully picked up a slippery bit from the spoon and sampled it. Then she smiled. Encouraged, Roy tried again, and managed to get a minute spoonful inside her. She seemed more interested in the cookie, however, and he was in no mood to press.

Edward sprawled in a chair, the cake and utensils conspicuously present.

Roy dropped spoon back into the kitty dish, surprised at how exhausted he felt. "Help yourself."

Edward flashed him a brilliant smile and cut a hefty slice from the cake. Amused, Roy said, "Oh, you can have more than that."

"No, no, it's your birthday. You deserve at least a taste." Fullmetal set the slice carefully on a plate, pushing it and a fork over to Roy. Then he took the remaining 5/6ths of the cake and dug in.

Shaking his head, Roy tried the cake. It was still pretty good, if a bit soggy from the strawberries. "What happened to the tablecloth?"

"It was a wreck, so I threw it down the laundry chute." Ed nodded towards a metal flap on the wall near the pantry.

"Er, Gracia has her washing machine on the back porch. That's the old coal lift, from before they got the gas laid in." Roy and Edward eyed the thing, considering possibilities. Even Alphonse stopped mopping.

"...I'll chip in on the replacement," Fullmetal said generously.

Roy nodded. "Tell me, did you really deliver Elysia?"

"Deliver? More like received. Mrs. Hughes did all the work." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "It's not a pretty sight, a new baby. I'm surprised people don't drop them and run away."

"It's all the work afterwards that amazes me. A lot of dedication, being a parent." Roy looked over to Elysia, who had been watching Alphonse with fascination.

"Only for one. The other can bugger off anytime."

"Brother!" Alphonse put the mop away.

Edward rolled his eyes and went back to packing away cake. Alphonse joined them by the table, leaning over to wipe Elysia's face, and then his brother's, who spluttered and batted at him.

"She sure is drooling a lot."

"Thanks, and you just rubbed baby spit all over me, too. Ew."

"Alphonse, you were there the night Elysia was born, weren't you?" Roy was idly making conversation while wondering if the coffee was still drinkable.

"Yes, Sir, but I wasn't much help. Nina and I panicked and Brother sent us to go clean the kitchen."

"Nina?" How bad could the coffee be? Granted, it was cold and Gracia had made it, but it was still coffee.

Sadly, Alphonse said, "Nina Tucker. She's dead, now."

Edward stood up abruptly. "I'm going to put Elysia to bed, it must be 2 am, Mrs. Hughes will have a conniption if she finds out how late we let her stay up." He scooped the baby out of her high chair and marched unevenly down the hall.

Roy watched him go, mentally kicking himself. "My apologies, Alphonse. I didn't know she was with you that night."

"Brother made her flowers," Alphonse said distantly. "A wreath, on his birthday. He told her they would never fade, and they didn't. Nina wore them all the time. ...they weren't there, that day. I wonder what happened to them."

"Mrs. Hughes... was very upset over her death. Not that she knew the details, of course. Classified. But she arranged with the Officers' Wives Club to have Nina Tucker properly buried. ...I don't know if you are aware, that it is a military custom, when, ah, remains are unavailable, to inter a hat and gloves instead."

Alphonse said quietly, "Thank you for telling me, Colonel. That will be important to Brother. But I think I shall wait a while to share it with him."

"Yes, probably best." Roy got the coffee anyway, and added a hit of Maes' brandy.

**

Ed peeled Elysia off him and managed to get his braid out of her hands before it went into her mouth again. She protested with whimpers and sniffles when he tried to lay her down in the crib. Ed patted her on the back, like he dimly remembered his mother doing for him and for Al if they were having trouble sleeping. Elysia settled down, but would start fussing again as soon as he stopped patting. Ed braced himself against the crib bars and grumbled to Elysia, "Spoiled baby."

He looked around the pink and white room, patting mechanically. "You are a lucky little girl, you know that? Your mom and dad love you a whole lot. And you have Colonel Mustang, he's very important and smart, and me and Al will always help you and protect you." He rested his head against the rail. "We'll do a better job than with the last little girl. I promise."

He must be tired. What time was it? It had to be almost sunrise; they'd been up all night. Elysia mewled at the loss of his warm, gentle hand when Ed paused to rub his eyes. He sighed, toed off his boots, and crawled into the crib with her.

**

"I told you she'd be all right, your mom is a tough old bird." Maes Hughes held the gate open for his wife. "I thought she'd come right off that bed when your Aunt Gladys started parceling out her things. When she mentioned giving her sewing machine to your cousin Joyce, that's what did the trick. I think she did it deliberately, the old Battle Ax."

“It worked, so I’m grateful, even if next Feast Day is going to be a diplomatic nightmare.” Gracia looked out the window at the faint of the false dawn. “Elysia is going to be awake soon.” It wouldn’t be the first night of no sleep since the baby came.

“Maybe not, My Love, Roy had her up when I called to check on them.”

"Maes, why didn't you tell me sooner Elysia was awake?”

“Because you would have sent me home, Sweetheart, and I knew you needed me by your side. I’m sure they were fine.”

“I can't believe you left poor Roy alone with her all night." Gracia shook her head. “He’s never changed a diaper in his life!”

“This is Roy Mustang we are talking about, Dear Heart. He probably changed his own diapers. Anyway, he’s a State Alchemist and a very smart man. He’d work out the mechanics of it quickly enough.” Maes deftly parked the car. "It's good training for him. And our little Angel is no trouble, you know that."

Gracia had a very good idea of how much trouble a baby could be, gift from heaven or not. "Roy is never going to forgive us. What a birthday for the poor man." She allowed Maes to hand her out of the auto and followed him in through the front door. "Oh, look at him, he looks exhausted." They both peered at Roy, who was dead asleep, sprawled on the couch. A very tiny portion of him was covered by a pink and white blanket.

"...why is he wearing your clothes?"

"Yours wouldn't match his shoes, my dear. Make us a pot of your delicious coffee and I'll go check on our Princess." Maes noted the pad and other changing supplies on the coffee table and grinned. Nothing like a baptismal of fire. He trotted down the hall and very soon trotted right back.

"Elysia isn't in her crib... but Ed is." Sound asleep and looking pretty cute, too.

"Ed? Our Edward? Edward Elric? What is he doing here?" Gracia set down the strange urn she'd been examining. Her table cloth was gone, as was the vase her grandmother had given them as a wedding gift. The peculiar looking thing in its place was filled with gladiolas instead of snapdragons, and the daisies were quite dead. The sink was full of dirty, cake covered dishes. One pan had what looked like scorched on carrots and the other egg. The lid to her glass leftover saver was missing, too.

Maes whistled softly. "What did they do, have a wild Alchemist's Party?"

"Maes, where is Elysia?"

Maes opened the back door and Alphonse looked up. "Hello," he said brightly, pushing Elysia in a swing that looked like it was made from a laundry basket and bits of Maes' new barbecue. Their little darling was snug and sleeping sweetly in the warm summer morning. "I hope Elysia’s grandmother is feeling better!"

“Yes, she’s going to be fine, thank you.” Maes grinned at them. “Did you have any trouble?” His sharp eyes took in the small block of ice, ice pick, and stack of Gracia’s good teatowels.

“Not once the Colonel and Brother finally fell asleep. And Elysia is much happier now that she finally cut her new tooth.”

Maes sent the affable Al off to the local bakery for a large box of pastries and the morning paper and went to check Roy for life. Gracia, unable to stand it a moment longer, snatched up her baby. Elysica cooed and snuggled, happy to be back in momma’s arms and Gracia kissed her gently on the nose. Then she surreptitiously checked her diaper.

“Maes, bring me a fresh diaper, please.” Gracia grabbed a clean towel from the laundry and spread it out so she could lay her daughter down. She looked at the diaper, which fit without seams or pins. “… and your knife.”


End file.
